


Dorothea's Matchmaking Service

by Shortbread_Otaku



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Dorothea is cupid, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hubert is a Starbucks hoe, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lovesick idiots, M/M, Matchmaking, Multi, Oh no! My carefully cultivated emo aesthetic!, Panic Attacks, neurodivergent Dorothea Arnault, totally not projecting onto Dorothea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortbread_Otaku/pseuds/Shortbread_Otaku
Summary: Dorothea is sick of watching lovesick adults muddle their way through a conversation. So she decides to take matters into her own hands and create a matchmaking service.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Mercedes von Martritz, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	1. The tale of two pining idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea is tired of watching Edelgard pine after Byleth so she decides to help them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for choosing to read my fic! I promise future chapters will be better and longer, this has been sitting in my drafts for so long I finally wanted to get it out there. Didn't read it over so sorry for the mistakes. 
> 
> TW Eating disorder, panic attacks and implied self-harm.

For once, Edelgard was free of her vampire friend. Dorothea once saw Hubert climb out of a coffin; it doesn’t get more vampirey than that. Dorothea slid into the seat next to Edelgard. “Hey Edie, how’s it going?” Edelgard didn’t respond. She must be in a mood today; best to leave her alone. Still rude to ignore someone.

Dorothea looked around to see if anything interesting was happening; various classmates talked to each other. She knew Linhardt was asleep in the back, and the others hadn’t arrived yet. The door swung open, and she saw Petra walked in. Petra was co-captain of the hockey team alongside Caspar. Petra was quite pretty. Pink braids, sharp cheekbones, beautiful brown skin. Her crop top and shorts showed off her big muscles. 

Dorothea took out her books and looked at the board, then panicked. They had homework. The professor would give Dorothea detention if she didn’t have it done, and she hated detention. “Hey Edie,” Dorothea poked Edelgard. No response. Why was Edelgard so insistent on ignoring Dorothea today? Did she do something to upset her? 

Upon closer inspection, Dorothea realised Edelgard’s lip curved, and she had heart eyes as if she was in some cartoon. Dorothea followed Edelgard’s gaze right to their TA. Edelgard had a crush. Dorothea giggled; that was sweet.

After class, Dorothea stuck near Edelgard, waited until Byleth was out of earshot to say, “Oh, Edie has a crush,” in a sing-song voice.

“Hmm, yes-” Edelgard snapped out of her trance. “I mean, no! Of course, I don’t have a crush.”

Dorothea snorted. “And I own a mansion. Your heart eyes said otherwise.”

Edelgard sputtered various response before she conceded. “I have a crush.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“They’re so pretty.” Edelgard sighed.

“Yeah, they are.”

“But nothing will happen,” Edelgard stated with confidence. “They are a TA and I’m a student. It would be a horrible imbalance of power.”

“Edie, what’s the age difference?” 

“Byleth is twenty-seven, and I’m twenty-four,” Edelgard said quickly like it was something she thought about regularly.

“Okay, so,” Dorothea started. “You are graduating this year, and the age difference is nothing to worry about. Edie, dear, you’re more mature than most thirty-year-olds. TA’s barely have any power, and if you’re concerned about imbalances, then that’s something you talk about in the relationship. If you weren’t in the same class as Byleth, would this be a problem?”

“No. I see your point.”

“Yeah. Not like you’re teenagers or something, that would be creepy.” 

“I suppose you are correct about this,”

“With matters of the heart, I always am,” Dorothea winked.

Dorothea thought this crush would last a week, a month tops. Edelgard was an efficient person; she would either confess her feelings or forget about them. Two months later, Edelgard’s IQ still dropped to 40 whenever she talked to Byleth.

“You should see them, Ferdie. It’s ridiculous how into each other they both are,” Dorothea complained as she painted Ferdinand’s index finger.

“Oh, I have. I ate lunch with Edelgard one day; when Byleth walked over to ask a question, it was like she had forgotten how to speak!”

Dorothea giggled. “Let’s hope neither of us gets so tongue-tied around our crushes,”

“Let us hope.” Then Ferdinand got quiet, weirdly quiet. Almost as if he had something or someone on his mind.

“Unless,” Dorothea started. “You already have a crush.”

Ferdinand waved his hand around; whether it was to dry the paint or deny the statement, Dorothea couldn’t tell. 

“I have no one in mind for such things.”

“Uh-huh,”

“Really, I don’t.”

“It’s okay, Ferdie, I believe you.” It was going to be fun finding out who Ferdinand had a crush on.

“Your turn.” Dorothea gave Ferdinand her hand to begin painting. “It really is a shame you can’t do anything about this Byleth situation. Not like you can be cupid and set them up.”

Ferdinand was right, Dorothea couldn’t be cupid, but she didn’t need to be. Edelgard and Byleth already had crushes on each other; all Dorothea needed to do was give them a simple push. With that, all their pining would be gone, and they could act like normal human beings around each other. It was perfect.

Dorothea: im gonna help u with byleth

Edelgard: Should I be scared?

Dorothea: probably not?

Dorothea: how would u like to do it?

Edelgard: This is stupid. You are going to tease me.

Dorothea: i promise not to

Edelgard: There’s this really nice lake a short walk away from campus, I thought that would be perfect.

Dorothea: cool 

Dorothea: do u have the courage to text them or should i

The text bubble appeared and disappeared for a minute before a response came.

Edelgard: I will do it.

Edelgard: But please be on standby, just in case.

Dorothea: ill have blankets and lok ready if u need it <3

Edelgard walked down the path towards the lake off-campus. This was stupid. There was no way Byleth would reciprocate her feelings. Edelgard cursed; why did she allow herself to be talked into this by Dorothea? The last few months have been great; Edelgard loved being Byleth’s friend; they were goofy and kind and so oblivious to pop culture that it was endearing. Edelgard wants to confess, but first, she needed hard evidence; a scrunched up note, an accidental text, a slip up in conversation. Anything to prove that Byleth might have the same feelings as she does. Dorothea insisted that they do, but Edelgard found that hard to believe. 

Edelgard arrived at the lake, and Byleth was sitting on the bench staring out onto the lake. 

“Hello there,” Edelgard tried to push away her nerves and summon up her excitement at spending time with Byleth.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?”

“Well…” Edelgard trailed off, her gaze pinned to the lake. It was covered in green algae, with twigs and the occasional plastic bag caught on a branch, you could barely see the blue, but it was still beautiful. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for quite some time now.” Edelgard twisted her hands, her head tilted down. “For a while now, I have enjoyed your company-not that I ever disliked your company, quite the opposite in fact- I want to spend all my time with you and no one else. I hope that is alright with you; I would never hope to become a nuisance to you.” Edelgard’s rambling was brought to a halt by Byleth’s voice.

Byleth grabbed her hands and smiled at the blush covering her cheeks. “I feel the same way.”

Byleth lifted Edelgard’s chin up and captured her lips with her own. Their kiss was quick and sweet; by the end, Edelgard could still feel Byleth’s lips on her’s. Edelgard pulled herself closer to Byleth, she lay her head on Byleth’s chest. 

“Ever since I met you, I’ve been fantasising of this moment,” Edelgard confessed. “And now it finally happened.”

“I was so nervous,” Byleth said. “You can be very intimidating.”

“Me?” Edelgard snorted. “I never expected you to be scared of a five-foot woman.”

“When a very scary and beautiful woman starts talking to you, you tend to try and impress her.”

“You never have to try to be impressive.” Edelgard smiled. “You impress me every day.”

“And you impress me even more.” Byleth pressed a kiss to Edelgard’s head.

Two hours later, Dorothea received a text from Edelgard saying all was good. Dorothea leaned back into her pillows with relief. The plan worked well, as she knew it would; those two were so helplessly in love it couldn’t have gone any other way. Dorothea was happy for her friends. They found love, and she won’t have to watch the pair pine after each other. Yet, her clammy palms and shortened breaths told another story. If Dorothea confessed to someone, they probably wouldn’t say yes, but it doesn’t matter. Why would it? She has friends and is nearly finished with her theatre degree; all was good. But that degree was no way to get a job. What if she ended up on the streets? Begging for scraps of food and shelter, the constant vigilance and anxiety. She couldn’t go back to it. She had no one to support her if she failed. She didn’t want to leech off her partner anyway, but the thought of having no one to come home to after a hard day made her heart beat faster than it should. 

There was no way Dorothea would let that happen again. But was there any way to stop it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha every time I write Dorothea it turns sad, I'm not projecting onto her you are haha. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Stay tuned for future gay disasters!


	2. Is it a scone or a scon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea thought that she would be rid of lovesick adults once she paired Edelgard and Byleth up. She didn't realise how wrong she would be.

“So Edie,” Dorothea began. “How’s the relationship going?”

Edelgard pushed her salad away. “Really good. A month in, and I still can’t believe it’s real,” she said dreamily. “Byleth made me dinner last night; they caught the fish themselves. Can you believe that?”

Dorothea giggled. “They’re really something all right.” She popped a grape in her pop. 

The door opened, and Petra walked into the canteen with a box in her hand. Dorothea’s gaze travelled down her legs. Toned and scarred. How did she get those scars? From slipping and falling, or something darker? 

“Dorothea.” Edelgard brought Dorothea out of her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Do you have a crush on Petra?”

“No, um, no, I don’t.” Dorothea stabbed an apple slice to avoid Edelgard’s gaze. 

“You like her,” Edelgard teased.

“Shush. Or I’ll tell Byleth about all your drooling.”

Edelgard snorted. “Like they don’t already know.”

She didn’t have a crush on Petra. Did she? Yes, Petra was beautiful, and Dorothea thought about her a lot, but she didn’t have a crush. 

Ferdinand was acting weird lately, and Dorothea knew it was because he had a crush on Hubert! It had to be him. Dorothea watched Ferdinand closely for a day. Whenever Hubert came into the room, it was like his brain went blank, and he turned into a giddy mess. He kept smiling at his phone and smiled so wide whenever Hubert was brought up. It had to be him.

Dorothea brought the subject up at their weekly hangout session.

“So Ferdie, I think I’ve figured out who you have a crush on.”

Ferdinand giggled nervously. “Do you now? Who’s this mystery person then?”

“Hubert.” Dorothea watched a range of facial expressions cross Ferdinand’s face before he responded.

“Why do you think that?”

“Dear,” Dorothea began. “Your IQ drops to 40 whenever he comes into the room.”

Ferdinand chewed on his stirrer. He eventually responded. “Maybe I do.”

“Yes! I knew it.” Dorothea clapped her hands together. “Tell me everything.”

“He smells like coffee and grass.” Ferdinand tucked hair behind his ears. “He has this wicked dark sense of humour which I just love.”

“Uh-huh,” Dorothea leaned in closer.

‘He likes to act tough and scary but is actually a huge softie. He started wearing accessories Bernadetta made because it made her so happy!”

“Aww”, Dorothea fake swooned. “How sweet.”

“I know!”

“Wow, Ferdie, you are absolutely smitten.”

“Yeah. I wish I knew how to tell him.”

“Don’t worry, I can help you out.” She winked.

“What you going to lock Hubert and me in a closet?” Ferdinand joked.  
“Maybe.” Dorothea dragged out the vowels in the word.

Ferdinand laughed. 

The sun was shining hard today, so Dorothea found a tree to take shade under to study. She had work from all three of her college classes, so she had to buckle down and get that sorted. Dorothea started with her drama assignment from Professor Manuela; she couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing her. She was practically her mother, after all. Or at least that’s what Dorothea thought; it could be unrequited. She did pluck her off the streets and give Dorothea a new lease on life. 

Someone cleared their throat. Dorothea looked up and saw Hubert looming over her.

“Yes?”

“May I sit here?”

“Of course, Hubie!” She smiled. “Come to bask in my presence?”

Hubert scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Wow, you do wound me so.”

They descended into a comfortable silence, studying together. 

“I saw how you helped Edelgard.” Hubert said. “impressive. The months I have spent listening to her ramble about Byleth’s thighs or their personality.” Hubert chuckled. “You have done an excellent service to the world.”

That was sweet. “Aw, thank you, Hubie. I’m so glad I don’t have to watch Edie pine over the TA anymore.”

Dorothea thought this was a good time to turn this conversation around. “So, do you have anyone to pine over?”

“Haha”, Hubert deadpanned. “you’re one to talk. You’re not subtle.”

Dorothea averted her gaze. “Neither are you.” This idea was risky but could work. “I’ve seen the way you look at Ferdie.”

Check for the facial expression. Flinch and bingo.

“Aw, Hubie, you’re so cute.” Dorothea slung her arm around his shoulder. “Let me be the Eros to your Cupid.”

“Aren’t you a drama major?” Hubert asked. “And aren’t they the same person?”

“Hush, my little cherub,” Dorothea smirked. “I will make all your love wishes come through.”

“Why am I still friends with you?”

“Because you love me.”

“Hmm. I suppose.”

Professor Manuela gave a significant assignment on Shakespeare’s work and how he changed the art of playwriting. Dorothea enjoyed playwriting; being creative gave her a thrill and made her happy. It was tedious writing an essay on a man who has been dead for the last few centuries. She much more enjoyed the drama part of the curriculum. It was exciting to be involved in the action; even if you were a stagehand, you get wrapped up in the atmosphere of it all.

Dorothea chose her regular cafe to get work down in. It was a small local cafe a twenty-minute walk from the campus; their coffee was miles better than the Starbucks next to the campus. Dorothea came here at least once a week, it would be better for her wallet if she didn’t, but she found she got work done easier here. It also helped that Petra worked here part-time, so Dorothea got to stare and sometimes chat.  
Dorothea ordered a mocha and took her spot in the back by the window. Okay, it was time for Shakespeare, the bisexual man who loved prostitutes. It went slowly before she got interested in the topic, then she lost all sense of space and hours sped by. Learning all about this man’s early life, his career and all the rabbit holes she fell into. Dorothea’s paper will probably be the most scandalous in the class with all the in-depth research into Shakespeare’s life. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and was broke out of her trance. It was Petra.

“Dorothea, it is closing time.”

But it was five pm just a minute ago. Look at the clock; it was 9 pm. Oh, Dorothea hyper fixated on the essay; she missed dinner. It doesn’t matter that she missed dinner; it was probably better that way.

“Oh, is it? Awfully sorry about that, Petra dear.”

“Don’t be,”

Dorothea collected her books and laptop. She wanted to say more but didn’t know what to say.

“You missed dinner, right?” Petra asked. “If you run, there might be some food leftover.”

This was her chance to spend time with Petra, don’t mess this up!

“You missed it too, didn’t you? I’m happy to join you.”

Petra studied Dorothea for a moment before nodding. “I will be ready in ten minutes.”

Dorothea scrolled through her phone as she waited. The air was bitterly cold; midterm results would come in soon. Dorothea could not afford to lose her scholarship; she would be helpless and doomed. Was this a bad idea? What if Petra saw how utterly hopeless Dorothea was? Before her thoughts could get too dark, Petra was by her side. 

“What food did you get?” Dorothea asked.

Petra held up her bag; in the dark, it was too hard to see. “I took the stuff that was going to be thrown out. Muffins, bars and how do you say scone?”

Dorothea shrugged. “Scone or scon, it’s all the same.”

“Why were you working so hard?”

“It was for Professor Manuela, I can’t afford to disappoint her,”

“Why’s that?”

“She saved me from death after all,” Dorothea answered vaguely.

Petra invited Dorothea back to her room to eat their snacks. She was one of the few unfortunate students who did not get their own room. She said her roommate would be out late, so they wouldn’t mind. Dorothea tried to ignore the thrill of being in Petra’s room and focus on her friend. The room was much the same as Dorothea’s, with two beds bracketing the room’s walls, two desks behind them and a wardrobe each. Each side was decorated with personal effects; one side had various celebrities’ posters and the other photos of scenery and people. It didn’t take long to figure out which side belonged to Petra.

“Which one do you want?” Petra gestured to the bag of goodies.

“Hmm, the muffin.”

“You have chosen correctly.”

Dorothea laughed. “There was an incorrect choice?”

“I wanted the scone, no, sconce?”

“That’s a completely different thing!” Dorothea laughed. 

“Oh, what is it?”

“A lamp attached to the wall.”

Petra laughed. Dorothea said the word scone as incorrectly as she could many times and was rewarded by more harmonious laughter.

“Scone,” Dorothea said in a British accent.

“Scone,” Petra said in an American accent.

The two were in fits of giggles for ages until they finally calmed down. Dorothea ended up closer to Petra than she had been before; their thighs touched, sending chills down her spine. Thinking of anything else but the thighs, Dorothea pointed to the pictures on the wall.

“You like photography?”

“Very much,” Petra said. “I love nature. I love the smell of grass in the morning, the roar of the sea, the beautiful intricacies of a spider’s web. I take my camera with me everywhere.”

Dorothea smiled. “The passion you have for it is amazing, and you have hockey. You’re so lucky to love so many things.”

“So are you,” Petra added. “When you sing, it’s like an angel came to Earth.”

Dorothea blushed. “Petra, dear, that’s awfully kind of you to say. People will get the wrong idea if you say things like that.”

“Like the truth?”

Petra was making it hard for Dorothea to keep her mask up. It was crumbling away as it was.

“All I have is singing; without that, I’m nothing.”

“That’s not true! Dorothea, you have many talents, like a winning personality!”

Dorothea knew this was a bad idea. Her mask was all but gone; she already mentioned that she was nothing without singing what was next? That nobody would ever want her?

“Can I touch you?”

The request came as a surprise to Dorothea, but she agreed. Petra had her arm wrapped around Dorothea in a tight hug.

“I don’t know everything about you, so you probably have hidden talents. But you are amazing! Truly.”

Dorothea couldn’t take her gaze off of Petra, so she chose to hide her face in her hands. 

“Thank you, Petra, truly. I hope you think the same of yourself.”

“I try my best to.”

Tucked in Petra’s strong arms, Dorothea felt safe and accepted. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Petra asked.

“Mhm.”

“You refer to Professor Cassagranda by her first name, and you said she saved you from death; what happened?”

Dorothea tensed up. That was the one thing she did not want to talk about. It would sully Petra’s view of her, make her less than dirt; Dorothea couldn’t do that. It was an awful time she would not revisit.

“It is okay if you do not want to talk about it,” Petra stroked her hair. “I have my own experience with trauma. Do what makes you comfortable.”

Wow, that was so nice. Dorothea was taken aback. She did not expect that level of understanding and kindness. Whenever the subject of her past was brought up, she clammed up and was poked and pried for information until she broke. Nobody meant any harm by it; they were too nosy for their own good. Most of her friends knew was that she was an orphan, and Manuela took pity on her. Petra wouldn’t be like that, would she? She didn’t strike her as the type to pry about personal information. Maybe Dorothea could trust her.

“Okay, I’ll tell you a little.” Dorothea played with the frayed edges of her shirt. “My mother died of illness when I was little, so I had to fend for myself in not so savoury ways. One day Manuela saw me singing and took pity on me.” Dorothea could feel her throat close up and tears well up. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Thank you for trusting me with that.” Petra held her tight. “It mustn’t have been easy.”

Dorothea felt herself relax. She did not deserve someone as supportive and sweet as Petra, yet here she was, getting her hair stroked by the woman of her dreams. That’s when it hit her like a brick wall. Petra said she had her own trauma. What could that be? She had a sudden, desperate desire for knowledge. But Petra was so kind about not prying, so Dorothea had to return the favour. She tried to ignore the comment and focus on the sensation of Petra’s fingers in her hair, but it was in the back of her head nagging at her to confront it. 

“I’m guessing you want to know about my trauma.”

Could she read her thoughts?

“It was long ago.”

Dorothea turned to look Petra in the eye. “Petra, Dear, it’s alright. You don’t have to pay the trauma toll. Tell me whenever you want.”

Petra seemed to visibly relax at that and even kissed Dorothea on the cheek. “Thank you, my friend.”

Dorothea hooked her chin on Petra’s shoulder to hide her red face. “Thank you.”

“It was magical,” Dorothea took a chip from her shared basket with Ferdinand. “I think scones are our thing now; we have a thing. Can you believe it?”

“Of course I can.” Ferdinand said. “I have been telling you for ages that she likes you,” he raised a hand to stop Dorothea from protesting. “She brought you baked goods, you shared trauma, you cuddled!” Ferdinand held up a finger for each event. “And she kissed you on the cheek! That’s the perfect first date.”

“The kiss meant nothing. It was platonic.”

“A cheek kiss can mean everything.” 

Dorothea chewed on a chip to give her time to think. Petra didn’t like her, right? There was no reason for her to like Dorothea; she had big thighs, lots of flab, the constant need for validation and was really annoying. So it was settled. Petra did not like her.

Ferdinand eyed Dorothea carefully. Did he know? Dorothea let her mask slip in front of Ferdinand before, and that turned into an afternoon of positive affirmations and more food than she could ever hope to eat. While it was nice, Dorothea didn’t deserve anything like that, so it couldn’t happen again.

The subject needed to be changed. “Let’s get back to how you should proclaim your undying love for a vampire.”

Ferdinand blinked twice then shook his head. “I thought you were joking about that,”

“Nu-huh,” Dorothea wagged her finger. “I never joke about love.” She folded her arms. “I think the simple approach is the best; if you do anything dramatic, Hubie will be annoyed. Walk on up to him with some flowers and confess your feelings.” 

“You really think flowers are the best? It doesn’t seem like him.”

“That’s exactly why flowers are the best; nobody else would think of it.” Dorothea waved her hand. “Besides, Bernie gives him flowers all the time, and he adores them.”

“Wait what if-” Dorothea cut in.

“Flowers can be platonic, and Bernie has a partner already.”

Ferdinand sighed, there was no use fighting against Dorothea now.“If you think it’s the best option.”

“You could do anything, and Hubie would say yes, you should see how in love he is; he acts like a buffoon around you.”

Ferdinand laughed. “I will have to take you at your word.”

The pride society was having a party, and Edelgard convinced Hubert to join her. Ferdinand hummed and hawed over whether to bring a bouquet or a single flower; as its a party, a flower seemed more appropriate. After hours of fussing with clothes and hair, he was finally ready to go.

The party, thankfully, was not reminiscent of a nightclub. It was casual with music playing lightly and snack laid out on tables, games were set to on the coffee table, and it was a bring your own alcohol event; it was a shame. Ferdinand felt he would need a dozen shots to work up the courage.

Ferdinand surveyed the room and saw several friends chatting and playing games. He waved to Mercedes and Annette. He would love to join them, but his nerves could ruin the night if he didn’t accomplish his goal.

Hubert was in the corner as always at these types of events; he was talking to Bernadetta, who left when she saw him walking over. Hopefully, he didn’t scare her away, and she just knew to go for this conversation.

“Hubert,” Ferdinand said as a greeting.

“Ferdinand.” Hubert nodded.

A beat of awkward silence.

“Lovely party, not too loud.” Ferdinand commented.

“Mhm.”

“I have something for you,” Ferdinand pulled out the rose he was hiding behind his back.

“For me?” Hubert tentatively accepted the flower.

“The rose reminds me of you, prickly but beautiful and romantic.” Ferdinand also chose the rose because it was so clearly a romantic gesture that he would not be able to back down. “Would you do me the honour of becoming my beloved?”

“You’re an idiot, Ferdinand.” Hubert leaned forward and kissed him. It was like all the puzzle pieces slotted into place, and the full picture was in view. It was magnificent. Ferdinand no longer minded the inches of height Hubert had on him. 

They pulled away; Hubert brushed the hair away from Ferdinand’s face.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up,” He blushed. “So are you.”

“Never lie to me,”

“It is no lie,” Ferdinand kissed his cheek. “And it never will be.”

Ferdinand: YOU ARE THE BEST

Ferdinand: I love you <3

Dorothea smiled at her phone. Another happy couple.

Dorothea: love u too babe <3

This was great. Ferdinand deserved happiness after what his father put him through, Dorothea’s plan worked again! The feeling of helping people and hearing them sing her praises was intoxicating. One that dispelled the voices inside her head that told her she was nothing, at least for a while.

Despite this feeling, there was a nagging in the back of her brain telling her she would never find love and she should give up trying. Give up on everyone. The smile Petra gave her last night comes to mind and complicates Dorothea’s already complicated feelings. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter; Petra would never and should never love her. She had to let it go. The thought made her chest ache, but Petra deserved someone better than Dorothea.


	3. Bed is my only love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh thank you for reading up to the 3rd chapter, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> TW eating disorders, depression.

Nothing was going to happen today. Dorothea had no motivation to do anything. Everything seemed dull and pointless. She couldn’t bring herself to drag her body out of bed to get breakfast or to have a shower. When it was time for class, she stayed. What was the point? She would never achieve high enough grades to keep her scholarship, so why bother trying? She’s scraped by this far, but her luck ends here. There was no point to anything.

Dorothea tried to do something, anything, she brought up youtube on her phone. She watched animatics, but they didn’t give her the joy they usually did. Dorothea didn’t feel numb, but everything at once. She could feel her entire body aching. Scratch and itch and five more would duplicate like a cockroach. No position in bed was comfortable, tossing and turning until she ended up in the most absurd positions with no chance for comfort. Her body felt dirty and wrong m; her skin was fighting against her, trying to break free of her body. 

Dorothea grabbed a magazine she had nearby and read that; it provided temporary solace but not much. She poured into her textbooks only to throw them away the next minute. Nothing could keep her attention. It was pointless. She kept fidgeting her hands, picking at her nails, or pulling at her hair; she couldn’t do anything in this state. 

This has happened before. Days where Dorothea lost all sense of direction like her will was sapped from her body. She would groan into a pillow or help out at the opera house back home, but here she had nobody. Dorothea didn’t even know if she was welcome back at the opera company; Manuela left to become a professor, so who would host her? She had nowhere to go. No one wanted her. Dorothea dove under the covers as she fell down the rabbit hole of her thoughts.

Okay, yesterday was a blip—nothing to worry about or be noted. Dorothea got like that sometimes, and sometimes it lasted for more than a day; she was lucky. Dorothea was going to dive into all of her work and friendships and get any distraction she can. Right now, if she’s alone with her thoughts, it would not go well. Dorothea shoved a slice of toast in her mouth and downed her cup of coffee. Yesterday she ate nothing despite Edelgard knocking on her door asking her to come to dinner. The thought of food made her nauseous, and eating it always made her sick. 

Today was different. The nauseous feeling was slightly lessened, and all other emotions were shoved to the back of Dorothea’s mind as she made her way to class. Logically she knew she couldn’t focus without food; hence the toast she shoved down her throat. The moment she sat down in class, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and was met with the face of a concerned Bernadetta.

“Um, Dorothea, are you okay? Nobody saw you at all yesterday.”

Ah, the million euro question. Was she okay? Dorothea didn’t know the answer herself, so she smiled at the anxious woman.

“I am. I was feeling a tad under the weather yesterday, so I stayed in. That’s all.”

“Then why didn’t you eat?” Edelgard piped up from beside Dorothea.”

“Ah,” Darn Edelgard and her observantness. Why couldn’t she be a bad friend for once? “I was too sick to eat.”

“Yet you’re okay now?” Edelgard quirked an eyebrow. “An illness that leaves you bedridden and takes away your will to eat does not go away in a day.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dorothea muttered to herself.

Thankfully she was saved by Edelgard’s intense line of questioning by the teacher coming in and starting class. Dorothea paid close attention to the course, and whenever her thoughts drifted, she schooled them back in a row; there was no time for feelings she didn’t know how to decipher. 

The next class wasn’t for another two hours, and Dorothea had no work to keep her mind occupied. She quickly scanned her brain for ideas and came up with one, matchmaking. The last few months, matchmaking has been the perfect distraction from her thoughts; helping people find love made her feel good. If nobody was gonna love her, why not help others out?

It’s been a month since she helped Ferdinand and Hubert get together. Since then, she has successfully united two couples. Dorothea didn’t go near a couple unless she was one hundred per cent sure the feelings were mutual; if she was wrong, it would be cruel to the people involved. And a massive hit to her already fragile self-confidence. Last week she got a D on a test and cried in her room for several hours. Did not need a repeat of that.

Three weeks ago, she helped Marianne and Hilda get together. It was a case of Hilda kept confessing her love. Still, Mari’s self-esteem was too low to accept it, so Dorothea helped raise her opinion of herself, and they were golden. It hurt Dorothea to see that couple united than any other, Mari’s problem hit far too close for home for Dorothea’s liking. It was a place she did not want to go to.

The next was Lysithea and Cyril, and it was by far the most straightforward match made yet. Two weeks ago, Dorothea noticed Cyril staring at Lysithea when she wasn’t looking; she informed Cyril that it was creepy to stare at people. He apologised, saying he didn’t realise he was doing it sometimes. It was relaxing, Cyril said, to see Lysithea so absorbed in a book she didn’t notice the world around her. Dorothea questioned Lysithea about Cyril. She very factually told him that he was the only person who treated her like an adult, and she appreciated it. When dating was brought up, she said she wasn’t opposed to the idea. All Dorothea had to do was quite literally pull Lysithea’s head out of her book. She caught Cyril staring at her, and after berating him for being creepy, she allowed him to take her out on a date.

Dorothea felt good for helping people; it gave her a purpose and made her feel useful for once. Everybody wins.

Dorothea ran through her list of contacts to see if she got any inspiration. Everyone was matched up or had no crush that she could tell. This couldn’t be it, right? She had to have someone to fix up, whereas would she get her validation?

Many people were in the courtyard as it was sunny; that was a good time to find oblivious idiots. Ashe was playing with the campus cat, Mercedes and Annette were studying together. Dimitri and Claude were cuddling by a tree- wait, when did that happen? When did they become a couple? Yesterday Claude was complaining about Dimitri’s toned arms, and now they’re cuddling in public. There was no one for Dorothea to help. 

Crash. A pile of books landed on the ground to the left, carried by Sylvain and Felix. Okay, so there was someone she could help. But there was no way Dorothea was jumping into that dumpster fire; she wasn’t that desperate. Poor Ingrid, having to deal with those buffoons. Dorothea glanced back. Should she help them? It would be mainly for Ingrid’s benefit and the boost Dorothea would receive. She watched Felix bonk Sylvain on the head and continue to squabble like an old married couple. It would be best for everyone, she should help them.

No. Dorothea walk away, she thought. Step away from the dumpster fire. Dorothea walked forward, potentially saving herself from death. She could find another way to help Ingrid, to make her feel less responsible for those idiots. Maybe she could-

“Oof-” Dorothea bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry- Oh! Dorothea.” It was Petra. She bumped into Petra.

“Oh Petra, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Dorothea nervously twirled her hair. “Where are you off to?”

“The gym. I have to train. The hockey season is starting soon.”

“Ah yes, well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Would you like to join me?”

Dorothea was taken aback. That was an unusual offer. Training with the co-captain of the hockey team, who happened to be her crush and friend. While the idea of seeing Petra work out and get all sweaty was appealing, Dorothea did not need to embarrass herself. She did not have athletic prowess.

“Thank you, but not today.” she waved Petra goodbye.

Dorothea speeds through all her work and extra credit; it’s great being productive. Feeling like you’re useful and pushing away emotions. Great. She can continue like this, and nothing bad will come of it. 

After a fitful night of sleep, the unmotivated feeling is back. Dorothea can feel it weighing down her bones, her every movement lagging. It was happening again. No, no, that can’t happen; people were already getting suspicious of Dorothea’s infrequent visits to the canteen and her tendency to dissociate. If she wasn’t the party girl, Happy go lucky friend to everyone who was just naturally smart, then nobody would like her. If her mask fell entirely to everyone, nobody would care about her. All everybody wants to see is the fun side of her. Even her closet friends have only seen a fraction of her despair. They’re supportive now but will run when they see how miserable Dorothea is on the inside.

No. This couldn’t happen. Dorothea had to force herself up, and to class, she needed to pay attention and be active in any conversation. They had to believe the act. If they did, so could she.

Dorothea would power through the day. Eat food she didn’t want, wear too tight clothes, be happy. She was a good actor. One not good enough to fool herself entirely.

Dorothea got through her music class with little hassle then it was a history elective she opted for out of love for the subject. Sit away from people who see you; you don’t want to bother them or to crack. Linhardt was back, but he never bothered anyone if they didn’t bother him, so it would be alright. 

Ferdinand gave her a sad, questioning look and gestured to the empty spot next to him. Dorothea gave him a sad smile; it was better this way. Yes, Ferdinand would be hurt now, but he didn’t need to see her breakdown. Plus, Ferdinand had Hubert now! He didn’t need Dorothea. He had many friends to replace her, like Bernadetta, perfect. Ferdinand would quickly forget about her once Hubert took her empty spot. Dorothea saw Hubert walk through the door and made herself open her books to forget the sad feeling in her heart. She loved Ferdinand so much so she couldn’t bear to hurt him.

Hubert climbed up the stairs to the back and sat next to Dorothea. Wait, what? Why was Hubert sitting next to her? It made no sense. No logical or emotional sense. Part of her was thrilled that someone decided to sit next to her as it gave her existence validation. The other part was confused and worried.

“We need to talk,” Hubert said. Striking fear into Dorothea’s heart.

Class started, and Dorothea dreaded what would come after.

Maybe she could make a break for it? Agree to meet outside and leg it. Hubert was notorious for tracking people down. Perhaps he wouldn’t care enough? Dorothea was considering escape through a window when Hubert cleared his throat.

“Are you coming?”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

Dorothea scanned the area for exits; she was not discussing her feelings. She didn’t know what they were! Nope nope, not happening. Ah, any way out of this? Any people? Any reason, any sickness- Oh, that was perfect.

“Hey Hubie, I don’t feel too good; maybe we could do this another time?”

“I can help, do not worry.” It was a sweet sentiment, but the way Hubert said it made it feel threatening.

He opened the door to his room, and wow, there was no escaping this. They were going to talk about their feelings. At least Hubert’s room was decorated like a victorian vampire; it gave her something to focus on. 

“I would offer coffee, but as you feel unwell, tea would be more suited.” Hubert left for the shared kitchen to make their beverages. 

Coffee is how Dorothea and Hubert met. She overheard Ferdinand and Hubert, arguing over what was better tea or coffee; she jumped in to say coffee as it gave her life. She and Hubert have been bonded ever since. He came back shortly with two steaming mugs in his hand, one with her tea and the other with his ‘black’ coffee. Hubert prides himself on his aesthetic, black coffee, but Dorothea has seen him put cream and sugar in it despite claiming it ruins the beans’ flavour.

“How’s your Starbucks?”

Hubert glared at her. “I do like black coffee, you know.”

“I know. How’s the coffee you’re drinking now?” 

“Instant, blarg.” Hubert nearly spat the coffee out. “The beans are dead, no resurrection.”

“Hubie, shut up and put cream and sugar in your coffee,” Hubert grumbled, then fixed his coffee.

“so spill the tea,” Dorothea winked. “How’s your love life going.”

Hubert chuckled darkly. “Very sly, Arnault, but you’re not getting out of this one.”

Dorothea groaned. “But feelings are stupid. Let’s talk about something else. Like how coffee is better than tea.”

“All joking aside,” Hubert crossed his legs. “I care about you, Dorothea. And so do others.”

Dorothea couldn’t bear to see Hubert pity her. If you had a feelings conversation with anyone, there would be tears and pity and affection. With Hubert, he cuts to the core of the issue and deals with it. There wasn’t supposed to be any pity in his eyes.

“And don’t you think for a second I pity you,” Hubert said to a surprised Dorothea. “I’m not reading your thoughts. We’ve been friends for 3 years, I know you.”

Dorothea crossed her arms. “I know you too.”

“I also know what an eating disorder is,”

Dorothea kept opening and shutting her mouth like a fish. That baffled her. Why did Hubert think she had an eating disorder? That’s not what she had. Not at all.

“I want you to know that you have my support, that I care about you.”

Dorothea turned her head away from Hubert. 

“Goddess Dorothea, you know how hard this is for me,” Hubert groaned. “I don’t know how to properly show my affection to people, how to put my thoughts into words. You, of all people, know this. Why are you so defensive?”

“Because I don’t have an eating disorder!”

“If you didn’t, why are you so defensive?”

“You don’t understand!” Dorothea snapped. “Nobody does.”

“Would you look around you for one second?” Hubert grabbed Dorothea “s hand and placed it on his arm. “Do you feel how thin that is? Why do you think it’s like that?”

Dorothea glared at Hubert.

“Because of an eating disorder.” Hubert lowered his voice. “Every one of your friends can help you can relate in some way. Please let us help.”

Dorothea tried not to cry. She didn’t have anxiety. She had no eating disorder. No depression. She was not broken. She was beautiful, and a singer, and the only way she’ll survive is to be marketable. Nobody buys a broken vase.

“I’m not broken.” Dorothea tried to keep her voice from cracking. She stood up to run out, but Hubert pulled her back into a hug. 

“Nobody said you were.”

Dorothea felt her walls crumbling as tears ran down her cheeks. Hubert has shown her his scars; it would be okay to show him hers too. She could trust him. Hubert held her tight as he cried with her. 

Lysithea was leaning against the wall in the courtyard with a book in her hand. 

“Hey, Lys,” Dorothea greeted.  
“Hi,” Lysithea didn’t take her eyes off of the book.

“What’re you reading?”

“History of women royalty and what went on behind the scenes.”

“Oooo. Any good?”

“Would’ve stopped if it weren’t.”

Dorothea expected the conversation to end there, but a minute later, Lysithea perked up.

“It’s very gay.”

Dorothea snorted. “Not surprising. It was only recently people started repressing their feelings.”

“Ah, hetties are so simple.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Lysithea reading and Dorothea relaxing and allowing her thoughts to flow as they come. A group playing frisbee on the quad, a bag of popcorn spilt by the benches, birds were coming and going picking food up off the ground. It was grounding to know the world went on no matter what you did. Dorothea saw Claude round the corner with Dimitri on his arm; the two were so in love, it was ridiculous.

“Those two are such goofs,” Dorothea said.

“I know.” Lysithea sighed. “When will they get together?”

Dorothea paused. “Wait, what? They’re not already a couple?”

“The infuriating thing is, they’re both so smart.” Lysithea moaned. “Yet they’re as dense as a brick when it comes to each other. They do everything but kiss.”

Matchmaking was bad for Dorothea; she knew it was. But Claude was already her friend, and Dimitri was Edelgard’s brother; she would just help her friends. She wouldn’t have to do anything; Claude was curious enough as it was, just plant the idea that his feelings might be requited, and that was it. Plus, this would be the last time Dorothea did anything to do with other people’s love lives.

One little push is all it would take. What harm could it do?

Dorothea needed to study for her history class, so she chose the library. It was quiet and pleasant, plus it smelled amazing, like pine and books. It happened to be where Claude spent most of his time, but that was only a bonus.  
Dorothea wanted to finish her studying first as she wouldn’t be able to focus afterwards. It was hard to care about Henry VII’s wives when Dorothea had real fun at her fingertips. Still, she learned what he did and avoided falling down the rabbit hole of what his wives were like, though she desperately wanted to. When done, she looked around and found the mop of curly brown hair she was looking for. 

“Why, hello there.” Dorothea slid into the seat next to Claude.

“Why, Dorothea, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Claude winked at her.

“I’m here to talk some sense into you.”

“Ah,” Claude leaned back on his arms. “Did Hilda send you?”

“Nope. It’s plain to see you have a problem.”

“Which is?”

“The handsome man on your arm that you have yet to claim as yours.”

“Claim? What are we animals?”

“My point is. Dimi likes you, and you like him. You’re already doing everything a couple does, why not make it official?”

“Eh, I don’t know.” Claude leaned back in his chair. “Could make things awkward.”

“I doubt it. Think about it, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dorothea was five feet away when Claude said. “Say hi to Petra for me.”

Dorothea held her head low to hide her red cheeks and a wide grin.

What Dorothea said had stuck with Claude. He couldn’t get it out of his head. Did Dimitri like him as more than a friend? It didn’t seem possible and something to be ignored. What if he put his heart out on the line and got rejected? He would lose a fantastic friend and cuddle buddy. It was hard to find good people to cuddle with; first, you had to trust them, and everyone thought cuddling was only for couples. He couldn’t afford to lose Dimitri.

But even as he was wrapped in Dimitri’s arms, laying in bed, the thought wouldn’t budge. So Claude couldn’t enjoy his cuddle time. How rude.

“Hey, Dima?”

“Hm?”

“Is there any chance you like me, like romantically?” Dimitri said nothing and tensed up. Claude quickly backtracked. “No, homo bro.” he chuckled nervously.

“No, Claude,” Dimitri flipped him around. It was crazy he was strong enough to do that. “Full homo.” and they were kissing.

The next day Dorothea heard her plan was once again a success, she was overjoyed for her friends, they deserved love. The stabbing it brought to her heart meant nothing, she meant nothing.


End file.
